Words Aren't Needed
by District4-divergent-nephilim
Summary: Cas had finally made it back to the bunker, but there was a bit of a problem.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

* * *

A year ago, Castiel appeared on the doorway of the bunker, filthy and malnourished.

Dean opened the entrance to find him standing there, his head bowed in shame.

Dean took one look at him and pulled him into what was probably tightest hug that Castiel had ever been given. Then Dean screamed for his younger brother.

After that, Dean ushered him into the bunker quickly, dragged him down the hallway until they were in the bathroom.

"Where were you?" Dean choked out.

The angel had looked up at him with wide, scared blue eyes, but he said nothing.

"Cas?" Dean asked, starting to get worried.

The angel shook his head.

"Can you hear me?" Dean asked.

The angel nodded and mimed scribbling on a piece of paper.

"Of course," Dean replied immediately. "Clean up while I get some paper."

By the time Dean came back with a piece of paper and a pen, Cas had managed to get most of the dirt off his face and hands.

"Where were you?" Dean asked again.

"Walking," Cas wrote. "To the bunker. For three days."

"Why didn't you just call?" Dean demanded.

"Hard to when you don't have a voice," Cas wrote, a bitter smile creeping across his face.

"What happened?" Dean asked, his heart nearly stopping. "You can't talk?"

"It's called selective mutism," Cas wrote. "Metatron took my grace. I'm not an angel anymore. It was a very traumatic experience."

"What does that mean?" Dean asked. "Selective mutism, I mean."

"I only talk when I when I want to," Cas wrote.

"Then why can't you just do it?" Dean asked, confused.

"There's nothing worth saying." Cas paused, then wrote, "Dean, I need your help."

"Anything," Dean replied instantly.

"I'm about to pass out from exhaustion," Cas wrote. "I've been walking for three days. Can you help me clean up?"

Dean looked up at the new human, his chest tightening. There was an angel, his angel, now helpless. He could finally help Castiel, like Castiel had helped him. He nodded wordlessly and set to work.

He helped the Cas out of his ripped up trench coat, untied his tie, took his shoes and socks off, and then stopped. "Are you comfortable with me continuing?" he asked.

Cas nodded, and Dean continued taking the clothes off until Cas was left in only his underwear.

When Dean began to carefully wash Castiel's stomach, the ex-angel broke down into sobs.

"Am I hurting you?" Dean yelped, pulling away immediately.

Cas shook his head and reached towards the pen. "I used to be so strong," he wrote. "And look at me now."

"You don't have to be strong all the time," Dean assured him, pulling into a hug. "Let…" he hesitated. He was going to say, 'Let me be your strength for you,' but Cas didn't want a declaration of love right then. He wanted to get cleaned up and then sleep for three days straight, probably. "Let us be your strength for you now." 'Us' referring to everyone who lived in the bunker- Dean, Kevin, and Sam.

Dean was surprised that his words actually made Cas stop crying. In fact, he even smiled a bit.

* * *

That night, Dean was almost asleep when he heard someone knock on his door. "Come in," he said with a yawn.

The door opened and light spilled into the dark room, revealing Cas, who was wearing an extra pair of Dean's sweatpants and a faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt.

"Cas," Dean said, sitting up and turning on the light. "What's wrong?"

Cas pointed to his head and then cringed.

"Nightmares?" Dean figured. Cas nodded vigorously.

"Sorry, man." Dean yawned again. "I can't help you with that. I can't even deal with my own."

Cas shook his head and pointed to Dean's bed, then pointed to himself.

"You want to sleep in here?" Dean asked, surprised. _It's not that Cas wants him,_ he told himself. _Sammy used to do it all the time when he had nightmares. Being next to someone helps._

When Cas nodded, Dean sighed and pulled back his blanket. "This can't become a regular thing, though. You're a big boy, Cas. You have to sleep in your own bed."

Cas nodded and lied down beside the hunter. Pretty soon, they were both fast asleep.

When Dean woke up, Cas was smiling at him sleepily.

"Any nightmares?" Dean asked. Cas shook his head and smiled even wider.

From then on, Cas could be found in Dean's bed every night.

Not that Dean was complaining about it.

* * *

Now, one year after, Castiel has just almost died, and Dean almost died, too. He had never realized it, but how would he feel if Cas died and Dean never got to tell him how he really felt?

So that night, when Cas is almost asleep beside him, Dean reaches out and pokes his cheek.

Castiel's eyes shoot open, and he looks at Dean quizzically.

"Hey," Dean whispers. "I love you."

It's just like that night in the bathroom; Cas starts to sob.

"I take it back," Dean cries, sitting up and turning the light on. "I'm sorry, Cas!"

Cas shakes his head and takes Dean's face in his hands, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Nevermind," Dean says. "I don't take it back."

Cas pulls back to look at Dean, taking a deep breath. "I love you, too."

Dean sits there for at least twenty seconds, eyes wide as they meet Castiel's gaze. "You… you just… talked… I thought…"

"It seemed worth saying," Cas says. After almost a year of being silent, his voice is even more gravely than it ever was before.

Dean doesn't even have the chance to marvel at it, because suddenly Cas is leaning forward and smashing his lips against the hunter's.

Their first kiss is salty from tears and messy and _perfect._

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**Thanks for reading! Please review; constructive criticism is always welcomed!**


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